“ Reflexions ” ~ of a butterfly ~

There be a time

To thus forget,

Pain would beset

Life’s burden set

To metamorphosis,

All not immune

To melee of egress,

Thru primal stage

Of intrinsic crawling,

Till that of taking flight…


I may have wished

Primordial remains,

Of furry ravager

Held caterpillar

But butterfly be my aim,

Watching from on high

With lepidopteran view,

In wilting summer’s sigh

Sipping morning dew,

The while in reflexion,

Upon world’s progression  

Neath a solstice sky,

Life  chose I’d be a butterfly!

8 thoughts on ““ Reflexions ” ~ of a butterfly ~

      • Yes… good question, and one can’t also help wonder, of the magic that gives them the ability, these little delicate beauties, such as the Monarch butterfly who leaves our northern hemisphere, as in Montreal or the townships close by where I live, to winter in Mexico, with some coming back the following summer to brighten our lives. They are wondrous little people, these winged marvels, and most inspirational indeed.


    • Thank you for liking this one. As you might have noticed I like to write about butterflies, bumblebees, crows etc, our little friends with wings, who intrigue Marianne and I, as they use to say in the valley, to the max.

      My words for them come straight from the heart, where they have a permanent home. There are so many feeders and flowers all around the house, that it’s like living in bird-land, without the jazz, but with bird notes (not Charlie’s) but the jazz sounds do live indoors, in this hood. Jean-Jacques

  1. It seems this poem might have provoked a butterfly effect ….with poetry lovers all over the world! And knowing that your favourite town is Lucca…. where Puccini and his Mrs Butterfly happened to be born…I am not surprise Butterflies can populate your poetic imagination.

    • What can I say, save for a temporary loss of words, not the usual for me, but WOW my dear, yet no surprise your words have that much strength, less one forget your own poetic mind and expressive ‘savoir faire’…

      Thank you I’m afraid is rather weak, for so far reaching words, but you know the thanks I mean, the special I keep for you, and the limited edition few who found to call me friend. Jean-Jacques.

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